Punch Drunk Love
by HigherMagic
Summary: Teenage Human AU. It's a classic boy-likes-straight-boy story. Or possibly boy-likes-not-so-straight-boy story. Castiel can't quite decide. It's a little confusing when your supposedly straight best friend offers to teach you how to kiss.
1. Punch Drunk Love

**Title:** Punch Drunk Love  
><strong>Author:<strong> HigherMagic  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-15  
><strong>PairingsCharacters:** Dean/Castiel, Dean/OFCs  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> None  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Boy-kissing and teasing  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 2,500  
><strong>Summary:<strong> A teenage human AU in which Castiel asks his best friend to teach him how to kiss. Well, he didn't actually ask – Dean offered. Which is weird 'cause Castiel is pretty sure he's very definitely straight.  
><strong>Notes:<strong> Unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own. And I just felt like teasing the hell outta people. I regret nothing :D Enjoy! Title taken from a song, as well as a line within this fic – cookies to the person who spots it!

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><p>They're just in Dean's house, chilling on the couch and watching…something. Damn, Castiel really should start trying to remember all the B-listed Western movies that Dean makes him watch. Anyway, it's got that Clive guy, or Clint…Clark? That guy, and Dean's nursing a beer (they're technically not allowed to drink but Dean's dad's cool with it so whatever) and watching the movie.<p>

Castiel, though, has other things on his mind. Like his best friend – that long-ass river in Egypt. Yeah. Except not really.

It's a whole messy boy-likes-straight-boy story. I'm sure you've heard it all before. Point is, at Dean's encouragement, Castiel finally got up the nerve to swallow his gay pride and ask out one of the girls in their class.

Problem…

"Dean, I don't even know how to kiss."

Now this statement does not have the best insinuations in the first place. For instance, they're currently seniors in high school and Castiel not knowing how to even kiss a girl is sure to make him a target for Dean's gentle form of mockery – it still hurts but he always manages to make you forgive him, damn mid-Western charm. Secondly, telling this to his definitely straight and _definitely_ experienced best friend might lead to awkward 'Teach, Rabbi' moments that Castiel's not sure he's comfortable with. The third consequence he doesn't even want to think about because it's impossible.

Dean turns his head, quirking a little grin at Castiel. "Dude, really?" he asks, like he doesn't quite believe the slightly older boy, and Castiel just bites his lip and looks down, fidgeting. "Shit, man, are you serious?" Surprise, there, and a little bit of…something else. Dean straightens on the couch, shoving himself back so he's resting more upright against it. "Never even just on the cheek?"

Castiel shakes his head. "That's not really kissing, Dean." He finds himself blushing and hates his pale skin for showing color so easily – not like Dean's tan from being out in sunshine even when there isn't any sun to be in.

"Well, we can't be having that," Dean says after a while, straightening up again, and Castiel fixes him with a wide-eyed look. Dean pats his lap. "Come here."

Castiel can only stare for a moment. "You're kidding me, right?" he asks weakly, but finds himself moving towards Dean without even thinking about it. Weird.

Dean smirks a little more widely, taking Castiel's arms and pulling the older teen so he's straddling Dean's lap. Castiel blushes heavily, making a move to get off of him, but Dean's hands come down on his hips and hold him still. "Dean, what are you -?" His hands find Dean's shoulders without his acknowledgement or consent, and he digs his nails into the meaty muscle.

"Can't have you ruining my rep, man – your date's tonight. Gotta teach you to kiss before then." And then three things happen at once – Castiel's eyes widen so far that they are in danger of falling out of his head; all his breath leaves him in one fell swoop, and pretty much every drop of blood in his body leaves his head and rushes right downwards. "Won't be having my best friend be a bad kisser," Dean says like he didn't even notice.

"You've got to be kidding," Castiel whispers. Dean's so _close_, right here – Castiel could actually lean down and just kiss him. Which seems to be the idea, but _still_, Castiel can't quite wrap his head around it.

Dean smiles, and Castiel squeaks, tensing up when Dean's hands begin to run up and down his thighs and his sides. "Loosen up," the younger boy whispers, smiling; "A tense kiss is a bad one. Just relax. Pretend I'm that girl you're going to see."

Castiel takes in a deep breath, and holds it, and then lets it out again – he forces his body to relax and lets his thighs fall easily on either side of Dean's, and his hands release their death grip, settling more comfortably along the curve of his neck. "There we go," Dean whispers, grinning a little up at Castiel – his eyes are so green, so beautiful. Castiel can count the shades in them, and the flecks of gold and blue. "Now there are loads of different types of kiss, and they can all say different things. Some of them don't even have to happen."

Castiel frowns, cocking his head to one side. "What do you mean?"

"I mean the drum roll. It's the best part, sometimes," Dean replies. His hands move from Castiel's thighs, up and over his spine – Castiel can feel his warm palms through the thin fabric of his t-shirt and wishes with all his might that it wasn't there. Dean pushes at Castiel's back, forcing the two of them closer, and leans up. Castiel's hands and legs tighten in anticipation, his breath coming fast as Dean leans up, eyes flashing between Castiel's mouth and his eyes.

He stops when they're less than an inch apart – Castiel can feel Dean's warm breath on his lips and parts them, wanting to taste each other's air. They remain like that for God knows how long, just staring into each other's eyes, and Dean keeps looking down at Castiel's mouth like he intends to close the distance. Every now and again Castiel will shift, just a little closer, swallowing and blowing out a shaky breath against Dean's lips, which makes the younger boy wets with his tongue, as though he's tasting their air. Castiel's eyes follow the motion, copying it absently – they're _so _close, so fucking close. He imagines he can feel the other boy's heat, like they're already kissing, against his lips.

Castiel's palms are beginning to sweat, his hands shaking from the intensity – it's really quite frightening, the anticipation, making his heart thud so loudly that he can't hear himself think, or breathe.

Dean chuckles and leans back.

_"That's _what I mean," he says, running a hand through his hair, and Castiel lets out a shaky breath, sitting back on Dean's legs again.

"Oh," he says, trying to cover up his blush and the fact that his hands are shaking and the fact that he's hard, sitting in his friend's lap, talking about practicing how to kiss a girl. "I see."

"Yeah…" Dean clears his throat, running a hand through his hair once more. "Then there's the actual kissing part – girls' lips can get really sensitive really quickly, and apparently it feels better for them. All tingly or some such shit."

Castiel blushes, pressing his lips together, because he thinks he might be feeling that 'some such shit'. "How do I do that?" he asks, looking at Dean's mouth, his full lips and how pretty and red they are. He bites his lip and tries to imagine them on some chick, but they can't come close to Dean's mouth.

The younger boy smiles, and brings his hand up to the side of Castiel's face. "A lot of the girls I've dated like it when you trace your thumb along their bottom lip," he says, watching his thumb as it gently grazes the middle of Castiel's lower lip, making them part and Castiel's breath ghosts along Dean's skin. "Just like that – the lightest touch can melt them completely if you do it right. And the mouth is super sensitive. You can bite very gently, or lick over their lips – like when we sweat and get cold. Same kind of principle. And it makes their lips really…full, and pretty."

"Oh…Okay," Castiel stutters, blushing and biting his lower lip again, wondering if Dean will go far enough to practice _that_ too – Castiel honestly doesn't know how he's still in one piece. He feels like he's about to explode.

His hips shift, just a little, friction making him shudder and bite back a small noise that he prays Dean didn't hear.

Taking a deep breath, he tries to sit back, because he's losing control here and if this keeps going where it's going he's going to end up creaming himself in his best friend's lap just from kissing him (embarrassing doesn't even cover that).

Dean sits up too, following him. "You can do a lot to a girl with a pretty mouth," he murmurs, smirking a little, eyes hooded and cheeks flushed. Castiel's breath hitches at the sight and his friend's suddenly rough voice and the double entendre that he's drawling – when did that happen? "But it's even better if you make her chase yours. Make her so desperate for it that she'll mewl so prettily and shove you back and force it."

Castiel cocks his head to one side. "You like a girl who can take control?" he asks, partially curious, part imagining Dean submitting to _him_ instead – of shoving Dean up against his wall or this couch or the lockers at school and just kissing him senseless, reducing him to a pile of goo with nothing. Castiel _wants_ that so badly he can hardly breathe. He wonders if that's why Dean's got them like this, with Castiel in his lap so the older boy can maneuver how he wishes while Dean's essentially pinned. He wonders if Dean has thought about this.

He might have.

But Dean's straight.

The younger boy smiles, running his hands down Castiel's shoulders, back to the neutral area of his waist to help him keep his balance. "There's nothin' like it, man," he replies, closing his eyes at some memory, biting his lower lip, and Castiel feels Dean flush very hot for a brief moment, and wonder what he's thinking about.

"I want to try," he suddenly says, becoming bold now, because he doesn't want Dean thinking about some chick while Castiel's _right here_ and perfectly willing to rock Dean's world instead. The younger boy's eyes flash open again, pupils wide and black, and he tilts his head very slightly in permission. Castiel takes a deep breath, the nerves returning, and mimics Dean's hold before – one hand settles over Dean's elevated pulse, cupping his neck, the other brushes over the side of his face, holding his jaw and drawing it towards him like he's seen people in movies do.

He hesitates a second from sealing the deal, the nerves returning full throttle, because _shit_, this is _Dean_, and he's about to kiss Dean, and it's only been in his fantasies for the past, like, six years since he knew what kissing and sex _was_, so it's kind of a big fucking deal.

Dean smiles, running a hand up and down Castiel's side. "It's okay to be nervous," he whispers, and Castiel just laughs, resting his forehead against Dean's own, watching his friend's eyes. "Just go with it, Cas – do what feels natural. What feels good."

Swallowing, the older teen nods, and slowly leans in. Dean's eyes flutter closed a moment before their lips touch. It's warm – really, really warm. Dean's lips are just as soft as they look, and they're full and yield perfectly to Castiel's own, molding over the older teen's as Castiel presses a little harder. His hand moves to cup Dean's jaw a little more forcefully, keeping them together, and the other moves up to fist in his hair because it feels natural to do that.

Dean lets out a quiet little sound when Castiel's fingers knot in his hair and tug very slightly. The sound just sets something in Castiel on fire – he swallows a soft moan, shifting forward very slightly so he's more pressed up against Dean, and he's pretty sure the other teen can feel his hard-on but that doesn't fucking _matter_, 'cause he's _kissing Dean._

Remembering what Dean told him, Castiel parts his lips, just a little, dragging the tip of his tongue along the seam of Dean's lips, and the other boy opens so nicely to him, shivering just slightly, and Castiel tugs his head back just a little more. Dean's lower lip falls between his own and it just feels natural to nip at it, just a little, and then lick over the reddened flesh which has just the right amount of give to his tongue.

The room feels like it's a thousand degrees but Castiel can't bring himself to care. The hand on Dean's jaw moves to his hair as well, and Castiel breaks away for air, resting their lips together still, and catches Dean's eye for the briefest moment before he dives in again. He can't stop watching Dean's mouth, how their lips mold together so perfectly and how Dean's are getting all shiny and slick when he pulls away. He bites down again on Dean's lip, loving how he can feel tiny blood vessels bursting and making it swell.

When he finally meets Dean's tongue, he goes fucking weak in the knees. Letting out a soft little whimper, Castiel can only taste when Dean's tongue slides along his own, done with being passive. Dean's an expert at that cherry-stem-tying thing and his tongue curls along Castiel's, so warm and wet. It feels amazing. It feels like nothing he's ever felt before. His body is burning up and it feels like he's going to explode – his hips are rocking very subtly, providing friction to his aching hardness, but he's too caught up in the feeling of Dean's mouth on his to really do much about it.

He's so _passive_, just letting Castiel explore and use his mouth as he pleases, and that thought kind of turns Castiel on to no end. The older boy moans, very softly, and he can feel the vibrations against his own lips. He licks along the roof of Dean's mouth and it earns him a shiver, so he does it again, and again, until Dean's moaning right along with him. And _fuck_, that feels good. That feels really fucking good.

When they break apart, they're both breathing very heavily, like they've sprinted a marathon. Castiel and Dean are both flushed with the beginnings of sweat on their brows, and the older boy gingerly starts disentangling his hands from Dean's hair, swallowing as he realizes that his lesson is probably coming to a close.

_"Fuck me," _Dean mutters, looking a little dazed, and Castiel's eyes widen.

"What?" he asks, not quite believing his ears.

For a moment, Dean just blinks at him, and then he chuckles, running his hands through his hair and then shoving at Castiel's shoulders so the other teen has to let some air get between them. "Fuck, Cas, you're gonna knock that girl dead," he says, chuckling, and Castiel swallows, climbing off of Dean's lap and doing his best to hide his erection. "You feel better about it now? More confident?" he asks, raising an eyebrow towards his friend.

Castiel nods, biting his lip and fidgeting. "Yeah," he whispers in reply. "Yeah. Thanks, Dean."

"No problem," Dean replies, clapping a hand to Castiel's thigh and squeezing, then he stands up. "You've got nothin' to be worrying about," he says, standing in front of Castiel and leaning forward, bracing himself on his friend's knees. Castiel flushes a little when Dean winks. "Definitely the best kiss I've ever had."

Castiel's sure that, if he wasn't already, he's beet red by now, and Dean just chuckles and goes into the kitchen to grab another beer, and Castiel's left alone in the room to try and calm his raging hormones down before his _very definitely straight_ best friend returns.


	2. Knock Me Out

**Title:** Knock Me Out  
><strong>Author:<strong> HigherMagic  
><strong>Rating: <strong>NC-17  
><strong>PairingsCharacters:** Dean/Castiel, Castiel/OFC, Dean/OFCs  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> None  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Boy-kissing, teasing, table!sex  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 2,700  
><strong>Summary:<strong> A teenage human AU. Castiel's just had his date but, in his words, 'she wasn't really into it'. Dean, like any good friend, tries to figure out how it might have gone wrong.  
><strong>Notes:<strong> Unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own.

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><p>Saturday afternoon finds the two friends once again on Dean's couch, watching what Castiel has to assume is some weird demon-angel-apocalypse mix-up movie in which everyone dies, and all the fun comes from guessing the order. Still, it's got winged guys and Paul Bettany is <em>purr-worthy <em>(but he manages to stop himself because Dean still thinks he's straight or something) so he's gritting his teeth and bearing it. Dean's just in it for the fight scenes and blood.

"So how'd your date go?" Dean asks once the end credits start to play, leaving a very dissatisfying ending behind. Castiel swallows and sits forward, finishing off his beer – it's his third one and he's starting to get that warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. He's also had just enough that he's starting to feel a little bolder – maybe even bold enough to twist the truth a little.

"It was…disappointing," he says, sighing and setting the empty bottle down. He then turns to face Dean. "We went to dinner and she was all giggly and laughing and stuff…I don't know. We had a good time – she's really cool, and sweet."

"Didja kiss her?" Dean asks, sitting forward so he can see Castiel's face.

Absently Castiel bites his lower lip, feeling along the edges of his bottom lip as he remembers the kiss – it had been very…mundane. He tells Dean that; "She didn't seem very into it," he says, daring to flash his eyes Dean's way. "I don't know – maybe I did it wrong."

Dean rolls his eyes, standing up, and he holds a hand out to Castiel. "Maybe you just froze up. Come on – let's see." Castiel's eyes widen, and he can't do much more than take Dean's hand and let his friend pull him to his feet. "Kiss me like you kissed her last night – let's see what you did wrong."

Castiel's eyes widen even further, if possible, and he swallows, his mouth suddenly gone dry – he'd thought yesterday was a one-time thing, but Dean's willing to let him…shit, practice? Again, Castiel has to remind himself that Dean's perfectly, one-hundred percent straight…Castiel doesn't know – he's never had any other close guy friends but he knows girls practice kissing on each other…maybe some guys do too?

Too confused to think about it, he looks his friend up and down. "You're too tall," he notes with a slight smirk, and Dean rolls his eyes, tugging on Castiel's hand.

"Fine. C'mere." The younger boy leads Castiel a little away from the couch, towards a side table that stands at just below waist height and holds a phone and a notepad and paper, which Dean removes before sitting on it. It brings his head to just below Castiel's and, though it looks a little strange, it does the job. He sits back so his feet are dangling off the floor and pulls Castiel closer, between his legs. "This better?" he asks.

"Y…Yeah," Castiel chokes out, unable to believe that he's…he can't even think about it. Dean smiles, his eyes getting a little darker and already he's starting to flush, but it's really warm with their bodies so close together. Castiel can smell beer on his breath and it smells…kind of pleasant. Tangy.

For a moment he just stands there, staring between Dean's mouth and his eyes, the nerves returning full blast and he feels dangerously close to saying or doing something stupid, before Dean's lips curl up in a smile. "So, come on," the younger boy says, putting his hands on Castiel's shoulders and pulling them closer. The older boy visibly shudders when Dean's thighs press in on either side of his hips, warm and firm muscle trapping him and Castiel _really_ hopes that Dean doesn't slide any further forward otherwise he's going to get a bit of a shock. "How was she touching you? How did you touch her? Show me," he demands softly, moving one hand up to drag lightly through the fine hairs at the back of Castiel's head. "Show me, Cas."

"She…" He coughs, clears his throat, swallows, and tries again. "She had one hand…here…" He takes Dean's free hand and drags it around his shoulder, letting Dean's hand rest on his back, between his shoulder blades where Dean knows from many tickle wars that he's sensitive, and the younger boy obediently flattens his palm over the spot, nails digging in just slightly and Castiel jerks forward to avoid being clawed.

"Like that?" Dean asks, his voice getting lower and rougher and Castiel has to remind himself that this _doesn't mean anything._

He nods, looking down for a moment and taking a deep breath that smells of Dean's deodorant and beer and a little bit of sweat. "Yeah…like that, and her other hand was in my hair, tugging a little…" He closes his eyes and shivers again when Dean runs his fingers through Castiel's thick hair, finding a nice clump of it and tugging, just a little. "_Fuck_, yes." It slips out of his mouth before he can stop it.

Dean chuckles. "Sounds like that was one helluva kiss," he mutters, and Castiel can only nod, but it's not true – it didn't feel half as good with that girl as it is feeling now. Castiel feels too hot, like he's about to get set on fire, and he's hard in his jeans and desperately trying to keep himself from grinding against Dean's crotch because Dean's _right_ _there_ and _fuck it_, but this _feels_ right. Feels so _good_. "Touch me, Cas, like you touched her, now."

"I…" He swallows, taking a deep breath and forcing himself back under control, but his hands shake when they land on Dean and he knows his palms are sweaty. "Sorry," he apologizes briefly and Dean chuckles.

"S'alright, man, just keep going."

He nods again. "Here," he whispers, watching Dean's face as he lays a hand across Dean's pulse, which is starting to pick up under his palm – weird. Maybe he _is _getting affected by this. "I drew her in like you told me to." His fingers curl just a little across the back of Dean's neck, pressing down, and he pulls their lips together. He figures he can't keep explaining it now – he just has to show Dean what he did, which is perfectly fine by him.

Dean seems to melt and tense up at the same time – his thighs grip at Castiel's body tightly and his legs seem to hook around a little, pulling the older teen closer, while at the same time his entire upper body just goes lax. He pulls Castiel forward also, and the older teen can _feel_ his friend's body heat and swears he can hear Dean's pulse just _fly_.

Caught up in it, Castiel forgets all about trying to mimic the kiss he had with that girl – it had sucked, anyway. And Dean's right _here_ and Castiel just wants to rock his fucking world. He presses closer, holding Dean's head in his hands, fisting his free hand in the too-short hair and tilts Dean's head back so that his throat is bared. Going completely on instinct, he presses his thumb at the sweat-lined hollow of Dean's throat, giving the illusion of choking him, and the younger teen gasps.

As soon as Dean's mouth is open Castiel takes advantage – that soft, full bottom lip just fits so perfectly between his teeth, and he bites down, licking at the sore spot once he lets it go, and he follows the line of Dean's lip into his mouth with his tongue. Dean shivers when their tongues meet, sliding together and curling around each other, perfectly hot and wet and sweet.

Dean's eyes close as Castiel continues to kiss him, licking along the roof of Dean's mouth to elicit those delicious shivers that have Dean's thighs tensing up even more around him, dragging him closer. He can't help himself – his hands move to Dean's thighs, feeling the heat of his friend through denim, and he pulls Dean closer, rolling his hips up into the fantastic heat between Dean's legs. He does it slowly, letting them both feel every inch of each other grinding together, and Dean _moans_ – a low, guttural sound that Castiel eagerly swallows, savoring the beautiful noise.

Castiel bites down on Dean's bottom lip again – he can't help it, he just loves the feeling of it, and rolls his hips up against Dean's again. His friend is burning hot and he feels a little bit like he's shaking. Castiel runs his hands up and down Dean's thighs, wanting to calm him down like Dean had done for him (and it had felt nice so why not) and he stops when he feels Dean's erection encased in his jeans. Dean's _hard_ – hard from _kissing Castiel_.

It's like the perfect victory.

The contact on his thighs seems to snap Dean out of the kiss, and he breaks the kiss by tugging on Castiel's hair, breathing heavily through parted, kiss-swollen lips. Castiel lets him, needing the air too, but he doesn't move away and neither does Dean – they're frozen in that locked standpoint, watching each other, waiting for the next move, the next signal to either keep going or stop.

Dean finally swallows, licking his lips, biting them once, and Castiel's eyes zero in on the motion. "Nope," he mutters, his voice raspy and raw, "nothing wrong with that."

Castiel snorts, his hands tightening on Dean's thighs. "Shut up," he growls out, and dives back in for another kiss. He's done playing chicken. The force of it pushes Dean back against the wall and lets Castiel lean over him, bringing their erections in line with each other and Dean whimpers, fisting his hands in Castiel's hair. From the position he has no leverage to move or push back against Castiel, but the older boy can feel his desire to and that's enough for him.

His hands go under Dean's body and cup his ass, bringing their hips together and Dean moans softly again, the sound stifled against Castiel's lips, and his legs come up and wrap around Castiel, and that's all the encouragement he needs.

"_Cas…" _The way Dean gasps out his name is so beautiful, so deliciously needy. _"Fuck_, Cas…" It's barely intelligible, because Castiel refuses to let Dean's lips go, refuses to stop for even a second and Dean seems pretty okay with that. Castiel remembers what Dean said about submitting, about liking it when the girls shove him down and initiate things, and he wonders just how far Dean's willing to push like that. If this is what he's been doing to Castiel all these years.

The thought makes his body hot all over, whether in anger or lust, he's not quite sure, but Dean _wants_ him and he's not getting pushed away. He licks into Dean's mouth once more, making Dean open for him and the boy just stays down, breathing raggedly into Castiel's mouth. The kiss is getting wetter, neither of them able to swallow fast enough and Dean's lips are getting all slicked and shiny, and it's such a pretty sight.

The younger boy moans softly again when Castiel bucks his hips, pressing them together relentlessly and without mercy, and he drags his fingers through Castiel's hair, knotting his fingers in the thick black locks and tugging hard enough to force Castiel's head down. There's no room to move, though, so Castiel has to break the kiss and ends up panting against Dean's jaw while Dean catches his breath.

There's another knife-edged moment of stillness, both teens just trying to fill their heaving lungs with each other's scent, until Castiel shifts slightly, leaning down and pressing his nose into Dean's neck, inhaling deeply. The sound of it makes Dean shiver and roll his hips up again.

"You want this, right?" Castiel murmurs, his lips trailing against Dean's sweaty, sensitive skin, and Dean whines, his fingers flexing in Castiel's hair. "Tell me you want this."

Dean nods, his legs tightening around Castiel's body. "You have no idea," he replies, and the older teen chuckles because he thinks he just might. So much for his very straight best friend – he doesn't know if he turned Dean gay or if Dean's just been playing left-handed this far along but he's not going to question it now. Not right now. "Please, Cas, I…"

"Be quiet," Castiel demands sharply, moving his hands from Dean's ass, up his sides, and Dean's breath hitches when Castiel starts taking some of his t-shirt with them, hitching it up until he exposes the pale, smooth skin of Dean's stomach. As his hands move back down, Castiel closes his eyes, going by feel, and his fingers find Dean's jeans, undoing them and sliding against the hot skin beneath. Dean jerks like he's been struck, throwing his head back against the wall hard enough that Castiel winces in sympathy at the thud it makes, and shudders heavily, whining again when Castiel's fingers curl around his cock and start to move.

_"Fuck, _Cas, _fucking hell…" _Desperately Dean's hands scrabble to find purchase, to hang on for dear life as Castiel starts to move. The older teen rears back slightly, giving himself more room to get under Dean's clothes and shove them down so he has more room to work with. Dean's hands finally find places in Castiel's hair, yanking him down for another kiss, only Castiel doesn't let him – he watches Dean's face, resting their foreheads together, focusing intently on the little nuances and reactions he's drawing out with his hand. He likes it when Dean bites his lip, which he does when Castiel adds a little twist to the end of his stroke, so he does it often, watching Dean like the most fascinating piece of art, the most enthralling movie.

"So beautiful," he whispers, cupping the side of Dean's face with his other hand, smiling when Dean's eyes flutter closed and his lips part in a soundless gasp. "And all mine."

Suddenly Dean's eyes flare open and he locks up, making a kind of sound like a wounded animal, and Castiel feels warmth and a sticky fluid on his palm and up his arm. He continues to watch Dean's face and Dean just stares right back, cheeks flushed and pupils so wide that there's hardly any green left in his eyes. He entire body goes lax after a few seconds, and Castiel smiles again, realizing Dean just got off on his possessiveness alone (that'll probably be useful later), and leans down for a slow, lazy meeting of their mouths. He coaxes Dean's lips apart like they're soft and breakable, curling his tongue around Dean's like Dean did to him yesterday and drawing it out. The younger teen sighs when Castiel's hand moves away, the older boy bracing himself on the table next to Dean's hip, and he rocks forward again, still hard and more turned on than ever after Dean's little display.

Dean hums into Castiel's mouth, so lazy and pliant after his orgasm, and wraps his arms around Castiel's shoulders. "Mmm, come on, Cas," he drawls, his accent coming out a little, lazy and relaxed, one hand moving between Castiel's legs to return the favor. The pressure of Dean's hand against his cock and the raw, slow sensuality of his kiss has Castiel coming in his pants in no time, pressed up against Dean's body as closely as he can. He moans softly into Dean's mouth, grabbing hold of the younger boy's hips as he finishes, feeling a little bit weak now after his orgasm. Dean bears his weight easily, though, purring against Castiel's lips like a lazy jungle cat.

"Did you mean it?" he asks once their hearts stop racing, and Castiel cocks his head to one side, brows knitting together in confusion. "Is this…going to happen?" He gestures between the two of them.

Castiel smiles, leaning down and nuzzling once more into Dean's mouth, sharing a sweeter, chaste kiss. "Baby, you have no idea." Dean smiles, running his hands through Castiel's hair once more. "And all this time I thought you were straight."

Dean's eyes widen. "I thought _you _were…" He rolls his eyes. "Fail." Castiel chuckles too, unable to believe that he could have missed out on something like this for so long, but it doesn't matter, because he has Dean now, and he's never going to let him go.


	3. Wanna Mess Around

**Title:** Wanna Mess Around  
><strong>Author:<strong> HigherMagic  
><strong>Rating:<strong>NC-17  
><strong>PairingsCharacters:** Dean/Castiel  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> None  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Boy-kissing, teasing, oral sex, awkward foodplay/porn  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~4,300  
><strong>Summary:<strong> A teenage human AU. Dean and Cas have been dating for two days and Castiel _might_ be having a little trouble keeping his hands to himself. Not that Dean's complaining.  
><strong>Notes:<strong> Unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own.

* * *

><p>Dean must be trying to kill him. That's the only explanation because Castiel can't believe that Dean is this willingly sadistic. Or so woefully innocent.<p>

They're just eating lunch. That's the stupidest part of this whole thing – a humdrum lunch on a humdrum Tuesday afternoon, right after they both have double Chemistry and (thank God) before a free period, the day ending on Biology for Castiel, Gym for Dean.

Castiel had been planning on doing some studying during the free, but there's no way in hell that's happening now. Because Dean is doing…_stuff_ that should _not_ be allowed in a PG-13 setting. Not cool.

Dean…is not the most graceful eater, but somehow he can make something as simple as a burger and fries the most erotic thing Castiel's ever seen. He's also got an open bottle of Coke and a pudding pack and Castiel shudders at the possibilities for that damned little dessert. He's never really seen the allure of food, in a sexual sense – never got the whole strawberries and whipped cream or chocolate sauce fetish, but watching Dean eat; with this new kind of intensity and heat between them…is novel. And difficult.

He starts with the burger, taking a nice hearty bite out of it. There's, like, four different kinds of meat on it because Dean can charm just about anyone and that includes the cooks, and is covered in melted, shredded cheese from the salad bar so it kind of looks like a heart attack shoved between a large roll of white bread. Dean's also been very generous with the barbeque sauce, so it oozes out around the burger with even the slightest bit of pressure from the boy's fingers. It drips onto his plate when he bites down and coats his lips, along with the grease from the bacon and burger, so his lips are all shiny and slick with grease and sauce.

He chews a few times, shoving most of the food into one cheek while he does so to manage the mammoth bite. It makes one cheek puff out and the other goes hollow like he's sucking someone off, controlling all that food with his agile tongue. Castiel bites his lower lip, tensing up a little as he watches Dean's mouth, his lips going all tight to keep the food in, and eyes half-lidded in pleasure as he tastes it. It must taste good because Castiel is well on his way to knowing that face very, very well. He sets the burger down as he chews, his fingers also coming back slicked and shiny with grease, and Castiel can only watch with wide, awe-filled eyes as Dean brings his fingers to his lips, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows the first part of chewed food, and seals his lips around his fingers, sucking the grease off. It's a quick motion but it's loud, like a sucking kiss, and it makes little needles of heat shoot up and down Castiel's spine, thinking of Dean's mouth, watching his wet lips seal around his own finger, cheeks hollowing out as he cleans them. Castiel can imagine Dean's tongue circling his finger, agile and slick, getting the last of the burger's taste off before swallowing, his throat working to accommodate the food sliding down it.

His imagination's getting carried away and Castiel knows that he must be staring like a pervert, but he can't help it. Dean hasn't noticed yet – or if he has he's a fucking good actor. Castiel damn near whimpers when Dean licks down his forefinger and into the saddle between that and his thumb, sucking off the grease with another sound that sounds, to Castiel's mind, like sex.

Dean swallows again, this time getting rid of all the food in one gulp, and he licks his lips, getting the last of the taste and the lingering barbeque sauce that had desperately clung to the corners of his mouth and his upper lip. It's a quick motion again but Castiel tracks every minute movement, how Dean's knowing tongue curls around the shape of his lip so easily, cleaning without pressing too hard so he looks immaculate as ever.

Castiel's never thought of food or eating as sexy. Now he doesn't think he can ever watch Dean eat again.

Dean swallows again, licking his lips once more, before going for a fry. There's a hearty dollop of ketchup on his plate but Dean doesn't go straight for it. First, he takes the fry almost daintily by one end, bringing it up for his inspection (he doesn't like ones that are too burned) and it seems to pass the test, because it dunks it into the ketchup, swirling it around so half of it is liberally, equally coated. He brings it up and bites down on the ketchup-covered end, flashing his perfectly white, straight teeth that don't have a lingering trace of burger or anything else on them, and pulls the halved fry away from him again, letting it slide down his throat after chewing twice. He then finishes off the second half without adding more ketchup.

Castiel has to stop himself growling when Dean goes for the Coke. That fucking Coke will be his undoing. The older teen's fingers are clenched very tightly into fists, his knuckles white and resting against the red tabletop. His food lies forgotten on his plate, because he's not hungry anymore. No, his belly burns with a different kind of need. A different kind of hunger.

If Dean doesn't stop fucking teasing Castiel's going to announce their relationship very publicly to the whole damned cafeteria, and to hell with all those who could see.

The bottle is made of glass and condensing from the heat of the room compared with the cold drink inside. Small droplets occasionally run down the sides, pooling in a nice ring around the bottom of the bottle. Dean looks at the bottle, letting his fingers trail over the water, getting them nice and wet again. Castiel licks his lips just thinking about it.

He lets one finger trail over the 'Coca-Cola' logo, and then wraps his fingers around the neck. He holds it like a champagne glass, fingers curling over the neck with his thumb resting just below the rim, and Castiel swallows, watching those fingers tighten, knowing what that grip feels like, how warm Dean's hands are and how his calluses feel against his skin. Castiel hates that Coke bottle for the briefest second, jealousy overwhelming him that such an unworthy object should feel Dean's touch when he can only watch.

Dean drags his thumb around the rim until it rests where it will sit against his mouth, and lifts the bottle up. His third and little finger straighten out slightly to balance the weight of the bottle while his fore- and middle finger curl around the top of the neck to steady it, and he brings it to his lips. His mouth parts just enough to let the cool liquid flow between his lips, the rim resting on his lower just lightly, just enough to make it bend to the pressure, and his thumb presses on the divot below his lip too for balance. Castiel mimics Dean when he swallows, flushing hot at watching Dean's throat work to swallow the drink and how his lips have gone all soft around the bottle, fitting to its shape like he has no control, like he's just going to take it, and the older teen can't stand it anymore. He won't make it to the fucking pudding pack. No way in hell.

Dean finishes about a third of the bottle and sets it down with a satisfied little sigh. His cheeks are slightly flushed and Castiel wonders if that's because Dean can feel his gaze and knows exactly what he's doing. Then, Dean takes another fry and starts his ritual, and right before he shoves the thing into his mouth, he looks up, meets Castiel's eye, and winks.

_Oh, you sadistic little _bitch.

Castiel growls, tension stretching and snapping inside of him, letting out all his restraint. He bares his teeth in a light snarl and doesn't miss how Dean shivers at the harsh sound. "I'm gonna make you pay for that."

"Don't know what you're talkin' about, Cas," Dean replies, one side of his mouth quirking up a little higher than the other in a smirk, and he reaches for the pudding pack.

Castiel snatches it away before he can touch it. There's a dangerous gleam in Dean's eyes. Castiel stands. "You want this back; you will follow me out of this cafeteria and into the third door on the left." He leans down, bracing himself on the table, and watches Dean's eyes get dark, watches his pupils blow out and his lips part, preparing for something, anything. "Don't keep me waiting, Dean," he growls, and then shoves himself away from the table, putting the pudding into the pocket of his hoodie, and turns and strides out of the cafeteria. If anyone notices his flushed state or the obvious hardness pressing on the inside of his jeans, they make no comment about it.

The third door on the left is a janitor's closet. Castiel steps inside and waits, and Dean joins him within a moment. The younger boy's eyes are very dark, his cheeks flushed from excitement, and already his breath is coming faster. Castiel swallows, trying to keep his cool. He fists a hand in Dean's hair and twists the younger teen around, slamming him into the only wall not to be covered in metal shelves. There are a few mops and brooms propped up in one corner and they scatter, falling to the ground. Dean gasps at the rough treatment, turning his head to avoid getting his face smashed, his hands flying out to brace himself against the wall.

Dean whines loudly, shoving his hips back against Castiel's and earns a harsh bite on the back of his neck for the action. "Shh, baby," Castiel mutters, tilting his head so the small amount of scruff on his jaw scrapes along the back of Dean's neck, biting down on the top knob of his spine and earning a shudder from the younger man. "Gotta be quiet. Don't wanna be interrupted, do we?" Whining again, but softly this time, Dean shakes his head. Castiel growls, his hand tightening in Dean's hair and yanking his head back, earning a soft gasp. "Do we, Dean?"

"N…No, Cas," Dean whispers, his eyes falling closed, swallowing loudly. Castiel licks his lips, watching Dean's Adam's apple bob beneath skin that is getting shiny with the beginnings of sweat, and he rears back only to flip Dean around and slam him back against the wall. The younger teen gasps again at the rough handling, his hips bucking forward to ride against Castiel's, his legs spreading shamelessly.

Castiel leans in, his body shaking from the need to have Dean, right here, right now. His body seems to throb with the time of his heartbeat, to the beat of Dean's rapid panting breaths. The younger teen's eyes darken even further, if possible, as Castiel's lips come within an inch of touching his own, but the older boy hesitates, pauses, smirking wide enough to flash his teeth. He can feel Dean's breath skating along his lips, Castiel's own becoming sensitive from how much he's bitten them, and tingles shoot up and down his spine. Dean smells like his food, like himself, like everything. Unable to help himself, Castiel dives in like he owns the space between Dean's parted lips, licking into the gap and thrusting in with his tongue, owning Dean's mouth as easily as breathing.

"_Cas_," Dean gasps out between the demanding kisses, his hands knotting in Castiel's hair and tugging gently, making sharp needles of pleasure shoot through Castiel's system and the older boy groans, grinding his hips forward against Dean's, able to feel Dean's erection against his own, and the way they fall along each other feels so fucking good, so fucking _right_.

"You like teasing me, Dean?" Castiel murmurs, gazing with half-lidded eyes at Dean's face as he licks, nips and kisses along Dean's mouth and jaw. He breathes Dean's air, shares Dean's taste; it doesn't matter. He just wants his senses filled. The younger boy mewls, swallowing loudly again, and his eyes say it all – he likes pushing, likes having people snap. Castiel knows that, from the first lesson when Dean taught him how to kiss. "This what you wanted, baby?"

"Cas…" Dean says nothing else. He can't say anything else.

"On your knees," Castiel demands harshly, stepping back to give Dean room. Graceful like a jungle cat, Dean sinks down to a crouch, his hands splayed out against the wall behind him for balance, his knees gripping Castiel tightly on either side of his slightly parted legs when he slides down the wall. He looks up at Castiel, grinning, tilting his head up so his neck has to stretch, baring his throat beautifully to Castiel's hand when he reaches down and holds Dean's chin, forcing their eyes to meet. Without breaking eye contact, Castiel reaches into his hoodie pocket and pulls out the chocolate pudding, and though Dean's gaze doesn't move, his eyes flash and his entire body goes tense for a brief moment. He licks his lips, tongue dragging over the bottom one, and swallows again.

They're both breathing far too heavily – anyone could hear them outside the closet door. The possibility of getting caught, of making his claim to Dean so public, makes Castiel's hands shake and his heart skips a little in his chest, thudding painfully hard on the inside of his ribcage. But it doesn't matter. All that matters is Dean, right here.

"You want this?" Castiel asks, raising the pudding to Dean's eye level, and Dean tilts his head towards it, licking his lips again. His eyes flash to Castiel's crotch, right in front of his face, and he makes a soft whining sound, like an animal, like he can't quite decide between the two. "You want this?" Castiel asks again, this time tightening his hold on Dean's chin and bucking his hips forward a little to make sure Dean understands what he's talking about. Eagerly Dean nods. Castiel cocks his head to one side. "Which do you want more?"

Dean mewls gently, tilting his head so he is wrenched free from Castiel's grip, and leans forward, his hands going from the wall to Castiel's thighs, and he pulls the older teen closer, nuzzling into the heat between Castiel's legs. Castiel damn near collapses when Dean mouths over the line of his erection, damp heat seeping through his jeans and going straight to his cock. He slams a fist against the wall behind Dean, hissing and gritting his teeth when Dean lets his tongue lick over Castiel's cock through his jeans as though the clothes aren't there, teeth biting down to keep his erection in place and make the fabric almost painfully tight over it. "_Fuck_, Dean," Castiel snarls.

The only answer Dean gives is to tighten his hold on Castiel's thighs, holding him up, and he groans into the semi-damp fabric of Castiel's jeans, eyes flashing up to the older teen beneath thick, dark lashes. His eyes are almost black, pupils overtaking everything else so there's only a sliver of deep emerald green left behind, and it's just delicious how Dean looks at him like he'll do anything that Castiel asks of him.

Castiel swallows, desperately fighting to get a fucking grip and not just cream his pants like he did on Saturday. This time he at least wants to get Dean's mouth on him. He reaches down with his free hand, which is aching from punching the wall, and shoves at Dean's cheek until the younger boy has to let go of his choke hold. Dean mewls in disappointment but goes, pressing his cheek to Castiel's thigh as he watches Castiel undo his jeans one-handed, fumbling a little because his hands are shaking so hard. Eagerly Dean helps him along, shoving Castiel's jeans and underwear down as soon as the button and zip are undone, taking Castiel in hand once his erection is free and giving it a few cursory pumps with a too-loose fist.

Castiel makes a sound like a wounded animal, slamming his fist against the wall again (he can't imagine what it must sound like in the classroom next door) when Dean presses his lips against his shaft, licking like a kitten at Castiel's cock as he watches from where he's kneeling. The hand that isn't on Castiel's cock moves away from the older boy's thigh and closes around Castiel's own hand, around the pudding.

Their eyes meet and Castiel sees the question that Dean is asking. He swallows, trying to get control of himself again when every instinct is screaming at him to just thrust forward into the wet heat of Dean's mouth. His hips buck involuntarily and Dean's hand tightens in the reflex to try and keep him still, earning another soft groan from the teenager.

Castiel tears off the plastic covering with shaking hands, throwing it away, and coats two of his fingers in the pudding. He's not even quite sure what he's doing but Dean's breathing so hard, lips wet and parted, encouraging him with his eyes so Castiel can't stop himself. Dean licks his hips when he sees Castiel's fingers coated in the chocolate pudding, and before the thought even forms in Castiel's mind Dean leans up, capturing his fingers in his mouth and starts to suck. It feels fucking amazing, finally having Dean's mouth on him even if it's only just his fingers. The room feels like it's a thousand degrees and Dean's mouth is even hotter, and so wet, sucking on his fingers, his tongue forcing itself between them so he can get every last drop of pudding from Castiel's skin. Castiel curves his fingers down in Dean's mouth, not wanting to make his lover gag, and Dean rewards him with the prettiest moan he thinks he's ever heard.

Castiel's so enthralled with watching his fingers repeatedly disappear into Dean's mouth that he doesn't even notice where Dean's other hand is until he feels the second one close around his cock, slick with chocolate pudding, and he damn near collapses again when he realizes what Dean intends to –

"Oh _fuck_." Yes, Dean must be trying to kill him. It's the only explanation.

Dean's eyes flutter closed, lashes kissing his cheeks as he slowly sinks further onto Castiel's cock, lips stretched, wide and soft, around him to take him in. His cheeks hollow out, sucking as hard as he can, fingers tightening around the base to keep Castiel still. Castiel moans loudly when he feels Dean's tongue sliding along his shaft, curling around traces of pudding and licking it up and Castiel can feel Dean's throat working as he swallows down the pudding and build up of saliva in his mouth. It's so warm, and _tight_, and _fuck_, Castiel's never felt anything like this before. It's fucking amazing and Dean's hardly done anything yet.

Dean shifts a little on the balls of his feet, his knees spreading out a little more, and he leans back against the wall for balance, pulling Castiel closer so the older boy can lean against the wall also, pinning Dean there and shadowing him with his body, trapping him in. Castiel can just manage to put enough brain cells together to think that Dean must really like the whole submission thing.

Dean gets more pudding onto his fingers, pulling off Castiel slightly and covering his cock again with the chocolate and returning to lick up the sweet dessert from Castiel's shaft. His cock twitches at every touch of the rough of Dean's tongue against his overly sensitive skin. Castiel feels seconds away from exploding – he _needs_, so badly.

"_Dean,_ fuck, c'mon," Castiel growls, reaching down and threading a hand through Dean's hair, tugging slightly, trying to direct his lover's head, and it just earns a low, throaty chuckle from the younger boy.

Dean's eyes flash upwards and he smirks, flashing teeth. "Shh," he whispers, putting a chocolate covered finger to his lips. "Don't wanna be interrupted, do we, Cas?"

"Sadistic little…_nff_." The rest of Castiel's muttered insult is lost when Dean takes him into his mouth again, this time really working to take as much of Castiel as he can. The older boy can only watch as more and more of him disappears into Dean's mouth, the teen swallowing until his full, slick lips touch the crisp hairs at the base of Castiel's cock. His cheeks are hollow as he sucks and his jaw must be hurting like a bitch but it doesn't _matter_. Castiel has to look away, biting his fist, because the sight alone will have him coming way too soon.

Outside the closet door, he can hear students hurrying from lunch to their next classes before the bell rings, and he thanks whatever deity might be up there that both he and Dean have nowhere to be. He doesn't think he could stop now if he tried.

Dean's moan shatters him from his thoughts, and Castiel's entire body shudders, his thighs quaking at the sensation of Dean's throat vibrating around him. Castiel opens dark eyes and looks down, seeing Dean's eyes tightly closed in pleasure, his mouth slack around Castiel's cock, and he realizes why – Dean's freed his own erection from his jeans, and is fucking into his own fist as he sucks Castiel off. As soon as that thought registers, Castiel groans again, thrusting forward into Dean's mouth, and though the boy rears back a little, he still takes it, letting Castiel sink as deep as he wants to go, and _fuck_, it's hot, knowing that Dean is getting off on Castiel fucking his mouth.

"Dean…_shit_, not gonna last," Castiel pants out, and Dean just moans in encouragement, leaning back so just the head of Castiel's cock is in his mouth, his free hand tightening around Castiel and stroking as he sucks, tongue flicking under the head, and just like that Castiel's coming. His body locks up completely, it feels like he can't move as he floods Dean's mouth, and Dean just whines, throat working to swallow him all, fist flying over his own cock until he's coming too, onto the hard linoleum floor. The sound of Dean's moan is muffled, just barely, by Castiel's cock, and the older teen has a passing thought that he's glad most of the noise of teenagers outside has died away, hopefully meaning no one was out there to hear them.

Although he doesn't think he would mind. His cock twitches at the thought of being caught, of being watched, of people knowing that Castiel could have Dean on his knees for him, at any time, anywhere. Dean mewls softly, letting Castiel's spent cock fall from his panting mouth, and presses his forehead against Castiel's hip for balance as he tries to catch his breath, fist still working around his own cock to milk himself of every last drop, drawing out his orgasm for all it's worth.

"Holy _fuck_," he gasps after a long moment, when Castiel feels like his heart isn't going to try and make a break for it out of his chest, and the older teen chuckles, resting his sweaty forehead against the cool wall, free, clean hand absently petting through Dean's hair as the younger boy comes down. Dean's voice sounds raw and throaty – he still sounds a little blissed out, slurring his words and smiling lazily up at Castiel. "That was _awesome_."

"'S what you get for…" Castiel trails off, realizing that there's no real end to that sentence without making him sound kinda weird. "That's what you get," he settles on instead.

Dean chuckles. "Hell of a punishment, Cas," he replies, bracing himself against the wall again and shoving himself to his feet so he's kind of standing, but that must have been one hell of an orgasm for him because he still can't quite stand up straight. Not that Castiel minds. He fists his hands in Dean's hair and pulls the younger boy in for a loose, lazy kiss. Dean hums into his mouth, tongue sliding into Castiel's mouth and along his own, and he tastes of chocolate and semen. It's an odd combination but not entirely unpleasant. Dean's still burning hot, his heart still hammering away in his chest, and when Castiel presses close he spreads his legs shamelessly and makes a low, desperate noise in the back of his throat, clutching Castiel to him.

Castiel chuckles against his mouth. "You amaze me," he whispers, nuzzling into Dean's mouth again, always astounded by how easily Dean lets him in.

The younger boy swallows, smiling a little, combing his fingers through Castiel's hair, and his smile widens when he realizes that, at the corner of Castiel's temple, is a lingering trace of chocolate pudding. "Dude, we look like we fell into it," he mutters, realizing his fingers are still coated with a sticky layer of the stuff, and Castiel's pants probably aren't much better, or his own.

Castiel laughs as well, looking around and finding the half empty pudding pack on the floor. He bends down and picks it up, studying it for a second. He reaches in, coating his fingers again. "Well, in for a penny," he mutters, right before smearing Dean's lips and jaw with it. The younger boy's eyes widen in surprise, before he laughs.

"Gonna make you pay for that," he mutters, pulling Castiel close, and it's safe to say that they didn't leave that closet for a good long while, covered in chocolate and most definitely absent from class.


	4. Putting Dirty Thoughts In My Head

**Title:** Putting Dirty Thoughts In My Head  
><strong>Author:<strong> HigherMagic  
><strong>Rating:<strong> NC-17  
><strong>PairingsCharacters:** Dean/Castiel  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> None  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> very slight D/s, Highschool AU, schmoop, sex.  
><strong>Word Count: <strong>  
><strong>Summary:<strong> A teenage human AU. Two months into their relationship, Castiel and Dean have the house to themselves and Castiel really wants to take the final step with Dean, and he knows Dean wants it too. So why is he so nervous?  
><strong>Notes:<strong> Unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own.

* * *

><p>Castiel has no idea why he's so nervous.<p>

Dean's coming over tonight, and Castiel's dad is away at a work conference and his brothers are off doing whatever semi-illegal things his brothers do, and he'd gotten the impression that none of them intended to be home that night. So it would be him, and Dean, alone in the house. All night.

And Castiel really, really wants things to happen. To, ah, well…

It's not like Castiel's a virgin anymore – no, Dean pretty much had taken care of that. In fact, there were times when Castiel was pretty sure the only part of himself that hadn't been inside of Dean was his cock, and they'd done pretty much everything except the, ah, full Monty.

He and Dean have been dating for almost two months. Two fantastic, whirlwind months and Castiel has never been happier in his life – years of pining and sexual tension and unrequited attraction and finally he has an all-access pass to Dean, even more so than he had before as the boy's best friend.

All because he had tried to play straight.

Ah, the irony.

But now he finds himself, yet again, kind of floundering. Dean is…well, Castiel wouldn't call him experienced because though he had tried to ignore a lot of Dean's sex and dating life, he was still pretty damn sure the boy has never been with another guy. But fact of the matter is Dean has had a lot more sex than Castiel who, until two months ago, had never even kissed someone for real before.

So, yeah, he's a little nervous.

He knows he has no reason to be – Dean will be amazing, just like he always is, and Castiel will just try and keep up, like he always does. Though, saying that, he'd like to think he'd surprised himself by just how into this he really is – not just the relationship, but the whole way they balance each other out. Dean likes to be in control, but only up to a point – he likes initiating, teasing Castiel on and having him snap, and damned if Castiel is complaining about that.

The doorbell rings, snapping him out of his thoughts, and Castiel almost falls over himself trying to get to the door. His heart is pounding and he knows that's ridiculous – even if they do get to sex tonight, it's not like it's going to happen straight away. Dean always likes to watch bad movies and drink beer and just chill out, even with the new relationship between them. Castiel likes that – likes that Dean's still his friend and companion, as well as his boyfriend. That he can be both.

He's watched enough 'Scrubs' and 'Friends' to know that that can be hard for people.

Dean flashes him one of his charming smiles, a duffle bag slung over his shoulders, a pizza box in hand. "Hey, man," he says, hefting the box into Castiel's arms and shouldering his way inside. "Half meat lover's, half ham-n-pineapple, you freak."

Castiel smiles, an unexpected (well, with Dean it is always semi-expected) surge of affection running through him as he watches his boyfriend go into the house, dumping his duffle by the stairs and heading towards the kitchen, Castiel following behind. Figures his reactions to food would stem directly from Dean, but it was sweet, as Castiel knew how much Dean balked at the idea of warm fruit on a pizza but still got half of it for Castiel, knowing he wouldn't eat a whole one by himself…it's sweet.

"Thanks, Dean," he replies, setting the pizza down and getting out two paper plates. Dean smiles at him. "Got another movie lined up on the list?"

Dean had made a list of all the movies Castiel needed to see before they died. If he remembers correctly, the next one had been 'Die Hard' or 'Drive Angry' or something like that. Something that sounded very butch and light on plot.

"Fuck yeah, man!" Dean replies, going back to his duffle bag and fishing out his box set of Die Hard movies. "All four of them. Granted, none of the sequels are as good as the first one, but ah…" He trails off suddenly, biting his lower lip and fidgeting absently with the corner of the DVD box. "I figure if we get bored we can do something else."

Castiel swallows, feeling himself flush hot when Dean's green, green eyes flash up to meet his. "Sounds like a plan," he says, mildly surprised and proud when his voice doesn't waver, and Dean smiles, coming over, setting the DVDs down, and grabbing one of the plates from Castiel's hand.

"Awesome," he says, grinning wide, and leans down to press a soft kiss against Castiel's mouth. It's slow and chaste and altogether perfect, just feeling the warm mesh of Dean's lips against his own before the younger teen pulls away and grabs himself a slice of meat-heavy pizza. "Let's get started."

Castiel smiles and nods, following Dean after getting his own pizza slice, and takes the DVD box from the other boy, setting it up as Dean gets comfortable on the couch. Once the movie starts he sits back down, pulling his pizza into his lap. He almost expects Dean to do something like lay his head on his shoulder or something, even though he knows that is something Dean would never do. But the younger teen's thigh is pressed right up against his own and the warmth feels really nice, complimenting the satisfying weight of food in his stomach.

Dean hardly eats anything – a fact Castiel doesn't even really pay attention to until half-way through the movie when he gets up to get drinks and asks if Dean wants more pizza, only to find the slice still on his plate to be half-eaten. Dean flushes when Castiel raises an eyebrow at him.

"I, ah, ate earlier," is all he says, biting his lip and playing with the stretch of his jeans over a knee, and Castiel knows that, even if that were true, it's never stopped Dean before – the boy's got a hollow leg, Castiel is sure of it.

"Do you not like it?" he asks, once he's retrieved two beers, popped one open and handed it to Dean, who takes a long swallow from it, licking his lips.

"It's good, I just…" Dean flushes again, biting his lower lip and it's getting really distracting, really difficult to pay attention to what Dean is actually saying. "I, ah, read it's better when you're not…full."

"Oh," Castiel says. "_Oh_." The full implication of what Dean is saying slams into him, then, and for a moment he just freezes – sure, it was one thing to think about it, to hope for it, but to realize that Dean had been…_researching? _As well? That warm feeling was growing again, as well as a hot shaft of arousal shooting down Castiel's spine.

Dean, at least, has the courtesy to flush, rubbing the back of his head and not quite meeting Castiel's eyes. "Yeah. Well, I mean, I've never done it before and…" He pauses, swallowing. "I wanted it to be good for you so -."

"Dean."

The younger teen stops, swallowing, eyes flashing up to Castiel's face, and he doesn't even think. He leans over Dean, shoving their plates and beer bottles to one side, and cups Dean's face in his hands, kissing his boyfriend like that first time, the first real time – hot, slow, biting at Dean's lip until the younger teen shivers and opens up for him, Dean's body arching into his, slouching low on the couch and it just seems natural for Castiel to move closer, swing a leg over Dean's thighs so he's sitting on his lover, pinning Dean down like he had that first time, what feels like forever ago and yesterday all at once.

Dean gasps, his hands flying to Castiel's sides and gripping tight as he leans up, straining to reach more of Castiel's mouth as they kiss, Castiel's tongue sliding in and licking along the roof of Dean's mouth like he knows Dean likes. Makes the boy shiver under him every damn time.

_"Cas," _Dean whispers, sounding wrecked and needy already, and Castiel shushes him, drawing back and looking into Dean's eyes, flashing teeth in his smile. He looks so beautiful – cheeks flushed, pupils blown from arousal already, lips moist and reddening from Castiel's kiss and his own bites. Delicious.

The older teen shushes Dean again, leaning in once more for a more gentle brush of lips, chaste and dry. "It's alright, baby, I'll take care of you," he whispers, feeling himself grow more confident, now, knowing Dean wants this just as much as he does, seeing Dean strung out and needing already – lets him shake off his nerves and step into the more dominant role Dean needs him to be, the role he wants to be in the face of Dean's submission and desire. "We can finish the movie later."

"Yeah." Dean swallows, nodding frantically and pressing his lips together, and leans up for another kiss, which Castiel grants him, slanting their lips together once more before he pushes off of Dean's legs, tugging on his lover's hand to pull Dean to his feet too.

How they manage to get to Castiel's room without killing themselves or each other is still a bit of a mystery to Castiel, what with his seeming inability to go more than two steps without shoving Dean against a wall for another kiss, or the way the younger boy clings to him like he's afraid of letting go, just pausing to get his duffle bag so he doesn't have to come back down to get his stuff.

The slams shut behind them in Castiel's room and then the older teen has Dean against it, knotting his fingers in Dean's hair tightly, pressing as much of his body as he can get against Dean's and pinning him to the door. Dean makes a small, soft sound of want, shoulders dipping, a leg threading between Castiel's thigh to give him something to grind against, and the pure hot friction of _Dean _between his legs is enough to make Castiel moan against Dean's mouth.

"The bed," he manages to grit out, shoving at Dean's shirt until he can feel the smooth skin beneath, his fingers fumbling at Dean's belt and jeans. "Need to get on the bed."

"Yeah…" But Dean makes no effort to move either – his hands are just as desperate and needy, tugging on Castiel's clothes until they have to part, just to get their shirts off, the clothes landing haphazardly all over the room. "Fuck, Cas, want -."

Dean cuts off when a low moan when Castiel drags his lips away, eyes flashing black with desire as he mouths at the shaft of Dean's collarbone, sucking a dark purple mark low enough that Dean's shirts will cover it for the most part, but it will be a reminder to Dean – a mark for him to bear. And not the last one Castiel intends to leave. Long, strong fingers thread through the hair on the back of his head as Castiel sinks, slowly, to his knees in front of Dean, the younger teen's eyes widening when he sees what Castiel intends to do.

"Cas," he whispers, tugging on the teen's thick black hair, making Castiel's eyelids flutter slightly. "You don't – _shit -." _Castiel's fingers pull at Dean's undone jeans, yanking down both his jeans and underwear and exposing the reddened, flushed length of his cock, which is already leaking precome steadily and tastes sharp at the first touch of Castiel's tongue. "You don't have to do that."

"I want to," is Castiel's reply, before he circles the base of Dean's cock with his fingers, sucking the head into his mouth like he remembers Dean does for him. His reward for that is a breathy little whine, Dean's hand tightening in his hair while the other presses into a fist and bangs back against his door. Looking up, Dean's head is thrown back, eyes squeezed tightly shut, chest and neck starting to shine from the first beads of sweat.

The flush has started to spread from his face, down his neck and chest – the red looks so pretty contrasting with the purple mark left by Castiel's mouth and the normal pale of his skin. Castiel shifts position, settling more comfortably on his knees, and tilts his head just slightly, letting more of Dean's cock sink into his mouth. It doesn't feel like he's taking very much in – certainly not down to the base like Dean can do for him – but judging from the soft, breathy whines and the way Dean's fingers are so tight in his hair, he figures Dean doesn't mind too much. His free hand reaches forward, finding Dean's clenched fist against his door and he splays his palm over Dean's hand, soothing the fist away.

He starts to suck, pressing his tongue to the sensitive underside of the head like Dean does for him and it feels so fucking good when Dean does that – the younger boy moans loudly, then, gasping, his chest heaving as he tries to breathe through the sensation of Castiel's mouth. Feels so warm and hot and Dean's gotten blowjobs from girls before but they just don't have the inherent instinct like men must. Or maybe it was just him and the fact that it's _Castiel _on his knees right now is ramping up his need by about a factor of a thousand.

"Cas, I -." He chokes off when Castiel swallows around him, pulling off with a wet sucking sound, and Dean forces his eyes to open, to lift his head and look down at the kneeling teenager. Castiel is looking at him with this single-minded focus Dean knows he has, like he's cataloguing each and every one of Dean's reactions for later, and Dean bites his lip, the sharp point of pain centering him long enough to warn -. "Not gonna last, man, I can't…"

Castiel looks at him for a second longer, fingers at the base of Dean's cock tightening just a little, stroking upward, and then, without taking his eyes from Dean, he goes back to sucking at the sensitive head of Dean's cock, stroking what part he doesn't fit in his mouth.

_"Fuck._" Dean pants, closing his eyes again, clenching his jaw, and he tugs desperately at Castiel's hair, trying to get him to pull off because he's pretty sure Castiel doesn't want him coming in his mouth – it's a shock if you're not expecting it, he knows. "Cas, gonna. Stop, please -."

Castiel hums softly, the vibration sending pleasure fissuring through Dean's nerves, and the younger teen is _gone_. He cries out loudly as he orgasms, unable to hold himself back, his hand tightening too much in Castiel's hair, he knows, but he can't force himself to let go. He feels like he's flying and vaguely he's aware of Castiel stroking him through it, tight and semi-dry and when he manages to finally open his eyes, he sees Castiel still staring up at him, and he's angled Dean so most of his release is covering Castiel's hand and forearm, a little sprayed onto his chest. Dean licks his lips, hips bucking forward slightly as one last spike of pleasure shoots through him, and then Castiel stands.

"So beautiful," he murmurs, raising his fingers to Dean's mouth and the younger boy obediently sucks his fingers into his mouth, licking every drop of his semen from Castiel's skin, across his palm and down his arm too, cradling Castiel's wrist in his hands.

"Wanted to come with you inside me," Dean whispers, leaning in and pressing his face to Castiel's neck, kissing his jaw lightly and he feels more than hears Castiel laugh.

"That's what round two's are for," the older teen whispers, voice low and full of promises, and the idea of more to come is almost enough for Dean to get hard again – arousal shoots, hard and painful, through his oversensitive body and he lets out a soft sound, whining against Castiel's throat. The older teen laughs again, threading his fingers through Dean's hair. "Come on, baby, let's get you settled."

Dean goes willingly to Castiel's bed after the older teen peels his jeans, socks and shoes off, baring him completely to Castiel's touch, falling back on the bed and pulling the smaller teenager against him, his thighs coming up to bracket Castiel's hips and help him stay balanced. Castiel knows he's not going to crush Dean with his weight, so he lets himself rest against Dean's chest, pressing their mouths together once more in a hot, slow slide of tongues and lips.

Dean's breath comes out shaky when Castiel pulls away, brushing some of Dean's sweat-damp hair from his face to look down at him, resting their foreheads together, and Dean's arms come up to encircle Castiel's waist, their weight pleasant and grounding on the small of his back, and for a moment Castiel can forget his own pressing arousal – good things come to those who wait, after all – and instead focus on Dean – the rhythm of his breathing and the drum of his heartbeat, still slightly fast from his orgasm, his lips parted and reddened from Castiel's mouth.

Then, Dean sighs, a slow smile spreading out until he's flashing teeth, eyes going half-lidded as he stared up at Castiel. "So…" And it's so delightfully adorable and awkward that Castiel has to laugh, pressing another light kiss to Dean's mouth and shifting his weight, so more of his weight is on his knees and he isn't pinning Dean down so much.

"So," he parrots, matching Dean's smile. "What have you been reading about this?"

The younger teen flushes, biting his lip, eyes darting away from Castiel's shyly. "Well, I mean, I'm glad I did. Didn't know half the shit that the internet told me." He chuckles again, folding one arm over and behind his head, pillowing his head on his hand as his eyes move back to Castiel's face. "Glad I did it, in any event."

Castiel smiles. "If it's any consolation, I did some research too," he says, blushing slightly at the smirk Dean gives him, one of the younger teen's eyebrows raising, a gleam in his eyes.

"Oh, yeah?" Dean asks, pressing his lips together, his hips rolling up against Castiel's and the older teen shudders at the feeling of Dean's warm, bare body pressing up against his erection – he fucks down before he can stop himself, hissing at the friction. "What…_shit, _Cas, what kind of research?"

Blue eyes flash, and Castiel leans up, settling back on his heels as he stares down at Dean, greedy eyes taking in the long, smooth stretch of Dean's chest, his dark nipples, marked and flushed chest, and his cock, half-hard again already against his thigh. "I could tell you," he says softly, running one hand up his lover's thigh, listening to Dean's hitch of breath when he gets close to where Dean so desperately wants to be touched. "Or…I could just…demonstrate."

In answer, Dean makes a sound that sounds a lot like a whimper, sending heat straight down to Castiel's cock, and he can't wait anymore. He wants to be all over Dean, his fingers and mouth everywhere he can touch and he wants to be buried deep inside his so-willing boyfriend. He smiles, looking down at Dean with heat in his eyes.

"Roll over," he growls out, his tone leaving no room for argument, and Dean shivers, bites his lip, and obeys. He spreads his knees out on the bed, as far as he can get them, and fists his hands in the loose sheets right under Castiel's pillows. "Up," Castiel whispers, cupping the spurs of Dean's hips and gently coaxing his lover onto his knees. "There we go."

"What are you -?" Castiel cuts him off with a soft shushing sound, one pale hand splaying out over the arch of Dean's spine and pressing down, so the younger teen's face is pressed against the pillows, his ass held up in the air. Castiel leans down, bending over Dean, his fingers digging into the meat of Dean's thighs, thumbs separating his cheeks, and Dean shudders with a loud moan when he feels the first long, deliberate lick of Castiel's tongue over his bared hole. _"Shit," _he gasps, clenching up on instinct, his shoulders tensing, fingers curling in the pillow covers. _"Cas."_

"You like that?" Castiel whispers, smiling despite himself, glad that Dean can't see his face, can't see how much taking Dean in like this, watching him get all strung out and needy really affects Castiel. It's not the first time they've tried rimming but this is the first time that it's going to _go somewhere_, and it's like a virgin sensation all over again.

Dean's already rocking his hips back, trying to get the sensation deeper, _inside, _a low, desperate whine falling from his mouth. "Cas," he whispers again, shoving his hands above his head to brace against the headboard so he has a point of leverage. "Please, come on, man, don't tease me like this."

Castiel hums, licking over Dean's hole again, before sucking a finger into his mouth, getting it thoroughly wet to thrust into Dean's body. They've had fingers inside of Dean, too, and it won't be the first time Castiel wonders how anything bigger could fit into Dean's tight, greedy little hole. He bites out a soft order for Dean to get the lube, which sits like a dirty little hint in the top drawer of his bedside table, and Dean scrambles, reaching blindly until he closes his hand around the little bottle and shoves it back, between his legs, for Castiel to grab.

The older boy hums gently again, kissing the small of Dean's back in a soft 'thanks' as he grabs the bottle of lube, squirting the thick gel onto his fingers and rubbing them together to warm it up. Dean is panting, back arched beautifully into the press of Castiel's hands and mouth – he's so willing, so wanting, it's all Castiel can do not to palm at his own aching arousal to give himself some relief – he wants to last for Dean, wants to make it good for Dean and, damn it all, he will.

"Might sting a bit," he whispers in apology, breathing out heavily and pressing his forehead against Dean's sweaty back.

"S'okay, Cas," Dean gasps out, clenching his eyes tightly shut at the first press of one of Castiel's lube-slick fingers. "Want it. Know you'll make me feel good."

Castiel closes his eyes, pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the dip of Dean's spine. "I will," he promises, smoothing his free hand over Dean's flank in an attempt to keep him still. Dean's inner muscles seem to pull his finger in, sucking him deep into Dean's greedy body, and he twists the finger, shivering at the heat around it and already able to imagine how it will feel around his cock. He tries to press down, tap against that little bud that he knows will have Dean screaming in pleasure, but he can't quite reach deep enough yet.

_"Cas." _Dean sounds frustrated, strung out – he's clenching around Castiel's finger, body rocking to desperately try and pull him in, and Castiel knows, understands, because he's just as fucking desperate for it too.

"Yeah, baby, I know," he whispers, tugging out his first finger and coming back with a second, pressing it inside along with the first and stretching Dean more. It hurts – he can tell in the set of Dean's shoulders that it hurts, but then he finally manages to find that nub, his longer finger able to twist down and press against it perfectly, and Dean cries out, body going momentarily lax and shivery with pleasure.

He's getting impatient now and though he knows Dean's not quite ready, he can't stop himself twisting in a third finger, stretching them apart. Dean whines softly, pressing his sweaty forehead against Castiel's pillows to try and stifle the sound, and Castiel moans, shaking his head and kissing Dean's spine again.

"I know, Dean, I'm sorry," he whispers, voice rushed and ragged and Dean just makes another soft sound. "Do you want me to stop?"

"You fucking stop and I'll kill you," Dean snaps back, voice a low growl and it's enough to make Castiel smile. "I…Cas, no more, please. Want you inside of me. Need it."

"Okay, okay…" Swallowing, Castiel pulls his fingers out – this is it. Finally. God, it feels like he's been waiting his whole Goddamn life for this moment. "Um, I read it's better on hands and knees, or with the receiver on top, or -."

Dean rears up, then, turning around, and Castiel has to sit back to avoid getting caught in the tangle of Dean's legs as he moves, sheets twisting around his feet and pinning him down. The younger teen looks wild – he's sweaty and flushed, pupils blown, mouth redder than Castiel has ever seen it, his nipples peaked and hard and his cock an almost angry red color. Before Castiel can ask what Dean is doing, there is a hand at the back of his neck, pulling him in for a sloppy, harsh kiss, wet and needy and perfect, and Dean tugs Castiel forward, falls onto his back, so Castiel is slotted between Dean's thighs again, the younger teen almost wrapping his legs completely around Castiel to keep him down.

"Just like this," Dean whispers, looking up through half-lidded eyes to Castiel's face. "Wanna be able to see you."

The older teen smiles, brushing Dean's sweaty and mussed hair back from his face again. "Okay," he murmurs quietly, moving his hands to fumble at what stubborn remains of his clothes are still clinging to his body, and then once they are off the naked slide of skin against skin feels so fucking fantastic, he shudders. He feels so close, knows this won't last long at all, for either of them.

But then, that's what round three's are for.

Castiel takes a deep breath, hooking his hands underneath Dean's thighs to lift him slightly, get the best angle he can so he doesn't hurt Dean. "Please, for God's sake, if it hurts too much, just tell me," he demands, the order in his voice coming out a little weak because of how breathless he sounds, but Dean still nods eagerly, eyes bright and fixed on Castiel's face.

"Please, Cas," is all he says, threading his fingers through Castiel's hair and tugging in encouragement.

The older teen nods, pressing his lips together, and grips himself tight around the base of his cock, rocking forward to push against the slick, stretched opening. He feels himself slide in just a half-inch, enough that Dean sucks in a breath and tenses up, his legs wrapping tight around Castiel's waist, and he lets go, fisting one hand in the sheets by Dean's head, the other in Dean's hair, and pulls him up for a kiss, pushing slowly all the way inside.

_"Fuck,"_ Dean gasps, the word stretched out, long and low like a moan, but Castiel doesn't hear any pain in it so he keeps going, keeps pressing through the tight, hot, slick muscle until he can't sink any further in – until Dean is locked tight around him from all sides, desperate and clinging.

"Shit," he gasps, clenching his eyes tightly shut and fighting against the sensation, trying not to make this end too soon. It feels so good – too fucking good, and _right _in every way, and his entire being seems to be trembling and Dean is shaking just as hard and it's all just so _new _that, for a moment, Castiel wants to laugh.

"Move, Cas," Dean finally whispers, placing a light kiss to Castiel's jaw, stroking his fingers through Castiel's sweat-damp hair until the shaking stops, smiling wide against his boyfriend's mouth. "Come on."

Tentatively, Castiel pulls his hips back, until the tight, hot clench of Dean's channel feels like it's about to disappear completely from him, before he thrusts back in, gasping again at the sensation, as Dean tightens impossibly around him – feels like he's suffocating and he can't breathe, and Dean's pulling him into another kiss and soon it's so easy to get lost in that stuttering rhythm, unwilling to leave Dean's body long enough to get a good motion going, but Dean doesn't seem to mind – the younger teenager clings to him, moaning softly every time the head of Castiel's cock jabs against his prostate, and finally he forfeits a hand from Castiel's hair to reach down and fist his own cock, jerking himself quickly and Castiel would growl at him and reprimand him but honestly he's dangerously close to going over the edge and so if it helps Dean finish faster, he can do whatever the hell he wants.

"I fucking love you," Castiel gasps out, biting at Dean's mouth between his words, hand tugging harshly. "I know it's a really awkward time to say it, but I do."

Dean laughs, eyes bright and joyous, and claims Castiel's mouth again, mutters 'I love you' against the older teen's lips, and Castiel is _gone_. It's too much – that warmth spreading out hard enough to make him choke and arousal shooting through him like a bullet and, yeah, he has nothing left. He grinds to a halt inside of Dean, as deep as he can go, and moans loudly around his release, biting down at Dean's neck and sucking hard to try and stifle the sound.

Dean shudders beneath him, legs and ass clenching suffocatingly tight, as his fist tightens around his cock and he joins Castiel in orgasm, arm clutching weakly at the older teen's shoulders. Castiel's eyes clench tightly shut and he wrenches his head away from Dean's neck, just breathing heavily against his lover's skin, fingers moving to clutch weakly at Dean's sides, trying to keep himself upright when every part of him just wants to collapse, boneless and sated.

Finally Dean's body unlocks, and the younger teen unwraps his legs from around Castiel's body and settles down on the bed. The change in position forces Castiel to pull out with another shiver, and he lays down next to Dean, threading a hand through Dean's hair and pulling him into a chaste, lazy kiss, just breathing slow and deep as they come down from their high.

"That was…" Dean swallows, grinning and saying breathlessly; "Awesome. Fucking awesome."

Castiel flushes a little, grinning also. "Phenomenal," he agrees, nuzzling close to Dean again and wrapping an arm around the younger teen's waist, pulling them closer together. "We are doing that again as soon as possible."

"I'm glad you feel that way."

Castiel blinks, because that tone of voice says something more than Dean's letting on. "Yeah?" he asks.

Dean grins, that gleam in his eye again. "Yep," he says, sounding proud of himself. "I made a list. Of things to try."

Blue eyes widen. "Another list?"

"A very long, extensive, fun list," Dean confirms, practically glowing with satisfaction, and Castiel can't really find it in himself to mind that much – after all, he is still a guy, with a very healthy sex drive inspired by the best Muse he could ever think of to inspire a sex drive.

"Do you have it with you?" he asks with a sly smile, and Dean nods shyly, biting his lip. "Excellent. As soon as you recover, we shall have a look at it."

This time, when Dean smiles, it's with something softer in his eyes – gratitude, maybe, that Castiel isn't treating him like some non-stop Energizer bunny or something, or for another reason Castiel cannot deduce. "You said you loved me," he whispers after a moment, still smiling.

Castiel blushes. "Yeah. Well, it's true."

"Good," Dean replies, cupping Castiel's face and pressing their lips together once more, before they settle down on the bed, wrapped around each other. "I love you too."

"Yeah," Castiel says, sighing softly and letting himself relax into Dean's body heat. "I know."


End file.
